Firebug
by Red-blue Ink
Summary: A American raised, French-Scot, lives in Rapture and fights through day to day life, while trying to avenge friend's mutilation at hands of a Spider. OC's PoV. Rated M for Language/Vicious Executions. R&R wanted. Updated sporadically.
1. Houdini Incinerate

**Authors Note: First submitted fanfic. Story goes by sleep-wakeup cycle, and won't likely have regular updates, and i do not own bioshock, just my OCs.**

"Nader. Yep, that's my name. Like _Grenadier_." Said the man, scratching a the few patches of red hair poking from the bandages on his scalp,

"Interesting," said the balding man, observing a picture of a curly, red haired man, supposedly the same as the badly burned figure sitting across from him.

"I got it because of this trick I used to do with molotovs. But I'm sure you're more interested in my time in rapture, mister agent, so I'll get right down to business,"

The thin figure walked into the Farmer's Market. I was hiding behind a crate, my trusty Springfield in hand. He walked in ever so silently, his bare feet completely oblivious to the splintered wood. Completely ignorant of the Bouncer eviscerating a Houdini and Nitro in sync, he walked past, and I could almost swear that the little sister waved at him. I got an idea earlier when I saw the Nitro throwing molotovs and the Houdini lighting them in the air, but I would have to get through the big daddy, and take the sister's needle. The man circled back, a rather large chunk of metal in his hand.

The next part I had planned to perfection. I knew the man from a newspaper article. He was one of a handful of men who could single handedly drop a big daddy. Of them, he's one of two who doesn't use a plasmid to do it. He walked up to the Big Daddy, who was completely unaware. He may not use a plasmid, but there had to be at least two tonics in his system. Lurker, probably, the upgraded version, too, and Jockey, also upgraded. He took the shank, and raked it across all of the pipes on top of the Daddy's tank. The beast moaned, but the sister was too engrossed in draining the corpses to notice. The lifeless suit was slowly dropped by the man, and he walked up to the still ignorant sister.

He grabbed her by the hair, and plunged his arm down her throat, pulling the ADAM slug from her body. The limp child fell from his arms, and he held the slug for a moment. I used this break to my advantage, and aimed my rifle. The trigger pulled, and the man fell, a bullet hole through his head. Knowing how any bullet I make works, the opposite half of his head was gone. The slug wriggled around a bit, until, of course, I picked it up and ate it myself. The sensation of the ADAM flowing through my body was great, but not enough.

Next, I took the sister's needle, and began to harvest the bodies. First the sister, the ADAM factory that she is… was. Next was the daddy… maybe not, lets go for his assailant. Turns out, I was right about the tonics, and Sportboost was in there, too. Next up were the two splicers, the Nitro first. Not much ADAM in him. Next up was the Houdini. She, on the other hand, was loaded. As soon as I felt the first drip of blood drip onto my tongue, I felt the surge of heat in my own body. The reignited flames licked my fingers… but something was wrong… my skin was burning.

"Gyaah!" the searing heat began to make my skin bubble and peel. I tried to scream, but there was no 'air' in the air. I felt myself slowly fade in to death. I came too sometime later, expecting the fire to return. No dice. I looked at me body. Most of my clothing was burned off, and burns were covering my body, but- it didn't hurt. I walked around, and I could swear that I should be dead, but somehow wasn't. I found some first aid kits under a nearby stall register, and began to patch my wounds with the gauze. By the time I was done, I resembled a mummy, of sorts.

"Dammit, Ryan, why do I have to do this!?" I heard a voice say. Someone sane, waddya know? "Where are you? WHERE ARE YOU!?" well, maybe sane. I sat behind the counter and tried to grab my gun, but it was nowhere to be seen. I looked over the counter, and found out why. Melded with the rock, probably from when the hell flames burst from my body, was an M1903 Springfield, the stock sticking just barely out of the ground, and the rest visible from under the now glassy ground. Inside, the barrel looked like a macabre model of smoky glass. I heard footsteps nearby and just made sure that I could do something. I looked toward a pool of oil. I tried forcing my hand forward. Nothing. Next I tried snapping my fingers. A little, but not much. Next up, the fake butane lighter. I rubbed my thumb against the side of my index finger. Spark, spark, whoosh! Okay, maybe not, but still, it was a constant flame. I tried to imagine the puddle on fire, the glowing yellows and reds, the warm heat. Wait… I know I can fake heat, but this is warm… Hot! The puddle caught, and was now burning brightly. The fire went out, so I tried it on the register. Whoosh! Really! It burst into flames. Just in time, too.

"Die!" screamed a splicer, jumping at me from opposite the counter. It was an ugly woman missing the right side of her face. I did as before and the woman exploded in flame. "Ah! Gah! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" she said, burning to ashes. The neat pile was offset by the clip of ammunition and revolver sitting half buried in it.

"Ryan, I think I found him!" screamed a man wielding a metal pipe, as he subsequently struck my in the head with it. I fell in and out of consciousness for a few seconds, then fainted altogether.

**Hope you liked first chapter. If not, it gets better.**


	2. Demon Pistolet

**Author's note: Second chapter introduces character important to storyline, but is rather short.**

I woke up in my apartment in the Sinclair Deluxe. The little hole, as I called it, looked rather nice compared to the cramped and uncomfortable living spaces all around me. I noticed that a drill bit was speared through a wall. I remembered my neighbor saying he had figured out how to make a much scarier crossbow bolt. I supposed I should give him a visit. I knocked on his door, and when he didn't answer, I kicked it in. Standing over a table, a roll of duct tape around one wrist, and a band of it, sticky side out and covered in various components on the other, was the man I have come to know as "The Engineer."

He looked over at my with that usual expression he had, the kind you get when you get so engrossed in something you forget about the rest of the world around you, and then somebody gets your attention._ "Bonjour,_ _mon ami," _he had a drill bit with fletching taped to the end in his hand, and on the table was a disassembled power drill, and what looked like his custom bow, which, as of currently, was mostly disassembled into it's smallest components.

"Speak English, _parler en anglais,_" I may be a French-Scot. Doesn't mean I can speak either language. Well, no Scottish, at least.

"_Oui_, yes, sometimes, the brain, it forgets," he looked down at the weapon,

"What are you building?"

"_Quoi?_"

"_Assemblage, quoi assemblage?"_

"Ah, _oui, de forage à l'arbalète, _a drill-shot crossbow, if you would. I will send design and components, _si vous souhaitez,"_

"Uh, sure, thanks, I guess," There was a pile of other blueprints stacked in my closet. They were all great ideas, just kind of impractical for the most. I remembered the revolver, and placed it on the table in front of him.

"You want this bettered? Why not long rifle?"

"It melted."

"Melted? _Comment cela peut-être?"_ I put up my hand, unwrapped some bandaging, and caught it on fire, "Ah, Houdini Incinerate, more powerful than normal, _non?"_

"Yup,"

"Give me time, I make revolver _démon pistolet,"_

"Thanks, man, I owe you,"

"_Oui, _very much you do," I placed a Franklin on the table, shutting him up but quick, "Come at 8 tomorrow, I will be finished, but until then, I require _la solitude absolue," _I walked out, and made my way to the king sized bed in my apartment. A bullet whizzed over my head. "_Désolé!" _It wasn't the first time, so it wasn't such a big issue. The night was slow, and the lack of a blanket was uncomfortable. The liquid heat that was my blood, however, compensated well. I faded slowly into sleep, hoping that the next day would be slightly less eventful.

**Action starts in next chapter.**


	3. Witch Hunter & Demon Slayer

**Author's note: As i said the action is about to start. This is also the beginning to one of the sub arcs.**

My wishes for the next day were, unfortunately, left unfulfilled. I woke to a commotion going on in The Engineer's room. I grabbed a Thompson that my neighbor had modified for an optional belt feed, increased bullet power, etcetera, etcetera.

I proceeded to repeat the earlier day's actions, kicking in the door, although lighting it on fire for distraction purposes. Behind the door, apparently, was a Spider, given away by his screams of flying doors, and his burning clothes. He was the first to go of the half dozen or so splicers. I pressed the trigger, and a volley of slugs were expelled from the weapon, sending the monster flying with an unusually great amount of force. I had never used the gun, but now I wondered whether I would ever use anything else again.

"_Mon ami! Vite! L'exil de ces hommes de mon quartier!" _He let out the French drabble faster than I could translate, but it was clear what he meant; get these people out. Next was a Houdini splicer running at me. Through some strange twist of fate, I managed to burn him to death before he got near me. Next was a brute carrying several incomplete weapons. The bullets fired from the gun did nothing alone, so, as they fired, I 'fired them up,' setting the brute ablaze.

"Hold it!" screamed a Leadhead, holding both my pistol, and my friend's crossbow. On the table were several parts, only one of which could be part of my pistol. The firing hammer. He brandished the pistol in the direction of The Engineer, and the crossbow towards me.

"_Vous stupide, stupide, petit homme ..." _mumbled Engineer, running up and punching out the stupid little man, while he attempted in vain to fire either weapon. Next up were three spiders. I sprayed a trail of bullets along them, only catching the first in my fire. One ducked to the right, and the other catapulted himself towards the ceiling. I peppered the one on the right, and turned to face my final adversary, but it would seem only a moment to late. The monster had one of his claws piercing my ally's chest, and the other dripping a miniscule amount of blood from his throat.

"_Mon ami,_ should you miss, I will put in good word for you," I aimed the best I could, which, considering the sniper training I had gotten in the war, was fairly great. I pulled the trigger, but the monster ducked, effectively dodging the bullet, while separating the Frenchman's head and waist from his torso, and spraying me with enough blood to distract me while the coward escaped into an air duct.

"You son of a bitch! You goddamned motherfucker! I swear to god, if I ever find you, I'll rip your fucking head off with my own two friggin' hands!" I screamed. I looked down at the bodies, five splicers. All either shot or burned to death. Wait… two were shot, one incinerated, and one offed with a fusion of the two, but that was it, four people. I looked down at the Leadhead splicer, now regaining consciousness.

"What the fuck…" he said with a thick German accent. I walked over, and held him in the air by his collar. "Gah! Who the fuck are you?"

"Who are you working for?" I yelled in his face.

"I don't now what you are talking about, fuckface!"

"Who are you working for!?" I ignited a fireball in one hand.

"Fuck! I don't fucking know! The spider! He told us that he was hired by someone!"

"Which one!?" I threw him around to look at the bodies.

"None of them, the fuck must have split!" I spun him around again.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know!"

"Maybe this'll jog your memory…" I slowly put my hand onto his face, heating my blood at ever so slowly a rate.

"No! no! no, no, no…!" he said as the skin on his face began to bubble and pop…

He fainted before the first hour of torture was up, and woke a little later. "You fuck… you sick fuck… you fried my face… I hope you die…"

"I bet you do. Until then, though, this might hurt," I said, lighting another fireball.

"Wait, you could try checking where I found him. Apartment E-7, Pauper's Drop."

"Good, I'll let you live. Get out now, and if I catch you again, I'll melt your ugly goddamned face off," I untied the ropes that had him bound, and he ran from the apartment as fast as he could.

I noticed a pair of rolled and tied blueprints on the now dead apartment owners table. The man only tied blueprints when they were finished, so they looked pretty done to me. I unrolled the first. The model name was _'chasseur de sorcières,' _translating out to 'witch hunter.' On the design was a crossbow, modified for a cordless drill as a power source. I pieced together the bits on the table, and the partially disassembled crossbow, and got, in the words of the late engineer, a spinning-shot crossbow. On the next schematic was the label _'slayer démon' _which should be rather easy to figure out. My new pistol was on it. I refitted the firing pin, then noticed that the model included a newer, flush, firing pin, which, unfortunately, rquired me to dis- and re-assemble my weapon.

"Spider, I will find you," I said, walking into my room, "as soon as I get some sleep…" I collapsed in my bed, both my mind and body ruined from the fight.

**Repeat note on top.**


	4. Underbarrel Thompson, Incomplete

**Author's note: At this point, i'm thinking about a one fight, then one casual story, alternating each update.**

The morning came early. The feud was on, and I wanted to see that Spider's head on a pike, and the rest quartered. I looted the apartment on either side of mine. Engineer's was mostly full of schematics, various parts, and enough ammo to belittle the US surplus. I grabbed five boxes of crossbow ammo, each containing twenty five bolts, and enough ammo for the revolver that I doubted I would ever need any more. I dug in the closet, finding several schematics labeled 'dud,' almost all of which I had sitting in my closet. I noticed a safe in the corner, and used my finger as a welding torch, dividing the door from it's hinges. Inside were four schematics. One was for an under barrel grenade launcher for the crossbow, another for a belt feed upgrade, and the other two were two documents on an under barrel auto pistol made for the revolvers that float around the city, and out of a Thompson sub machinegun.

I lacked the pieces necessary to fully construct either, but broke down the said Thompson into the components I would later need, saving quite a bit of room on my person. The only things I really needed were a welding torch, which I was, and a pair of clips to hold the assembly together. I searched around the house, and found nothing of the sort, then began looting the apartment opposite mine, the owner of which had been 'bounced' after trying to grab some ADAM from a little sister after leaving her abode one day. All I found were some clothes, mostly men's, curiously enough, and a bit of arsenic in a syringe.

Now that I was prepared for the journey ahead, of me, the last bit of preparation being re-sewing some of the previously mentioned clothes into a loose cloak, I began the walk out of the apartment building, finding something I had not expected in front of the main entrance.

"Mister B, wake up," cried a little sister, the splicer who likely killed the behemoth drawing close. I aimed the crossbow, and shot the man several times in the head, which, in all honesty, was probably overkill, as each shot pierced his skull with ease. The little sister, I now realized, was no longer crying, "Thank you for helping me, mister," she said, hugging my leg. I grabbed her loosely on the head, pulling her away from my, then crouching to her level.

"Since I helped you, you have to own up," I said, looking over at the needle she had dropped on the ground.

"N-n-no!" she said, trying to run away, I grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt, then proceeded to stab her with the long hypo. I pierced right into her stomach, draining a large amount of ADAM from her system.

"There, your debt is now repaid," I said, letting her go. She tried to take the needle, but I held it just out of reach, "sorry, I'll need this for later, but I'll get you a toy, if you'd like,"

"Okay!" she said, grinning widely, "I want my very own toy of Mister Bubbles, so even when he's not there, I can have him around!"

"Um, okay, I'll give it to Mister B to give to you, alright? Now, then, what's your name?"

"Elizabeth!" she said,

"Alright then, I'll get you the toy as fast as I can, but I have some business to deal with first," I remembered something about 'when a little sister drain ADAM from a corpse, she retains all of that persons memories,' "before you leave," I said, calling her back, just before she made her way into a vent, "have you seen a tall man with long fingers, and wearing a tattered orange safety jacket?"

"Safety jacket?" she asked, "Umm, oh! Yeah, I remember him living somewhere in Atlas… Arcus…"

"Adonis Resorts?"

"Yeah that's it!" she said,

"Thank you. Now, get a move on, I think I hear more people coming,"

"Kay! Bye!" she said, running into a vent. Several splicers approached around the corner, talking about maybe going into the protector program. I chuckled to myself, walking past completely unnoticed. I made my way to the nearest Atlantic Express, and bought a ticket for Adonis Resorts… actually, I hacked the terminal, but it's kind of the same thing down here. I took the chance I had to rest on the trip, something of a habit, now. I noticed as I began to pass out, a few bits of skin clinging to me… ADAM infused gauze… good armor…


End file.
